The day of reckoning

Ha ha ha

It's a holiday.
So I'll have another
Taste of cheesecake.
(John says the best I ever made.)
Some Christmas cookies with my tea
And a fried oyster sandwich the next day.
Drop of brandy while watching a movie.
Tasty bits of crispy ham
Sneaked off the fork
While piling the dinner platter.
And a second dab of scalloped potatoes
And another glass of wine
Followed by sausage and pancake
Breakfast the next morning
(Just for company, of course) 
And then a tiny glass of eggnog before bed.
And don't forget the candy,
Boxes of yummy sweets,
Especially those dark truffles.
The scale tucked away
In the downstairs bathroom
Until today.



Happy New Year!

The primrose path

The first primroses were already for sale outside a grocery store yesterday, and I think that's the earliest I've ever seen them.  And who could resist?  Goodbye old kale and pine cones, the new year is almost here. 

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.

Ernest Dowson

Parting shots

Sisters, sisters...

The house is going to be very quiet tomorrow...

Sneak preview

From today's Seattle Times:

Seattle’s Museum of History & Industry (MOHAI) officially comes out of hiding this weekend, after decades of being tucked away on an obscure side street in the Montlake neighborhood.
MOHAI now has pride of place on the south shore of Lake Union in the splendidly refurbished Naval Reserve Armory.

The museum officially opens on Saturday, but we had an invitation to the member's preview this morning.  To be honest, we liked the "obscure side street," not to mention the funky old museum itself and free parking on Lake Washington.

To get to the new MOHAI you have to fight traffic and navigate dead-end and one-way streets along the Mercer construction mess.   Well, unless you happen to live downtown and can take the cute streetcar.  So you can see, we were somewhat biased against the new museum from the start.

We soon discovered it really is a wonderful place.  The space is beautiful and the exhibits more extensive. Some are interactive...but not overwhelmingly so.  I'm sure we'll go again sometime, but I'm still glad my volunteer gig with MOHAI is down at the museum archives in Georgetown. 

Boxing Day

Santa Claus was very liberal at this house.  Now the dust has settled and I finally have time to admire my wonderful gifts.  In the "kitchen slave" category, John gave me more high quality knives that are too good for me. I think he just likes to buy them, not to mention, keep the food production line going. He also gave me a box of gourmet cooking salts and a collection of perfumed Dead Sea bath salts, all the finest in the world, and he said not to get them confused.  

And more!  Opera tickets to La Boheme in the spring, music CD's and opera DVD's and the latest generation Ipod.  If that wasn't enough, delicious foods, unique cute presents and other generous gifts from family near and far.  Thank you everyone, we are blessed in this house.

Here's a poem for Boxing Day that doesn't apply here, but it's funny.  It was written by one of my favorite poets, Adrienne Rich. 

Gifts that Keep on Giving

You know when you unwrap them:
fruitcake is notorious. There were only
51 of them baked in 1917 by the
personal chef of Rasputin. The mad monk
ate one. That was what finally killed him.

But there are many more bouncers:
bowls green and purple spotted like lepers.
Vases of inept majolica in the shape
of wheezing frogs or overweight lilies.
Sweaters sized for Notre Dame's hunchback.

Hourglasses of no use humans
can devise. Gloves to fit three-toed sloths.
Mufflers of screaming plaid acrylic.
Necklaces and pins that transform
any outfit to a thrift shop reject.

Boxes of candy so stale and sticky
the bonbons pull teeth faster than
your dentist. Weird sauces bought
at warehouse sales no one will ever
taste unless suicidal or blind.

Immortal as vampires, these gifts
circulate from birthdays to Christmas,
from weddings to anniversaries.
Even if you send them to the dump,
they resurface, bobbing up on the third

day like the corpses they call floaters.
After all living have turned to dust
and ashes, in the ruins of cities
alien archeologists will judge our
civilization by these monstrous relics.

Merry and bright

And busy!  Hope you had a wonderful Christmas day.

Merry Christmas

All is calm, all is bright...

Love and best wishes to our friends and family.

Christmas eve, Christmas oysters

We went out to lunch today at the Seattle Fish Market at the Junction.  An oyster po'boy sandwich for me, and fish and chips for John.  It was rich and good.

Dad, I wish I could send some fried Washington oysters down to you and Mom. We took the long way home and drove along Alki Beach. Over-excited kids everywhere.  I love the way the hours drag on Christmas Eve Day, and sometimes think it's the best time of the holiday. The only thing I miss is taking a red apple and candy cane to Sizzle.

So the cheesecake is made, ditto blueberry muffins and quiche for breakfast.  Ham for tomorrow with a big pan of scalloped potatoes. Tonight?  Isernio sausage and pasta.  And wine, of course wine. Now where did I put those elastic waist pants?  

Hope to have some new family pictures to post shortly.  Amanda, Tom, Nova and Maya are making their way across the mountains this afternoon.  They had amazing amounts of snow in the Methow Valley this week.  This is a picture Amanda sent of their back yard and a 6 foot dump of roof snow that they have to climb over to get to the car. Green Seattle is going to look like the Garden of Eden to Nova.

Christmas snow?

We had a dusting of snow last Wednesday in Seattle, but rain and more rain since then. Here's the new forecast:

Monday Night

Partly cloudy in the evening, then overcast with a chance of snow and a chance of rain. Low of 36F. Winds from the East at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of snow 60%.

Tuesday

Overcast with a chance of snow and rain, then rain in the afternoon. High of 39F with a windchill as low as 27F. Breezy. Winds from the East at 15 to 20 mph. Chance of precipitation 80% .

The possibility of a whitish Christmas? Well, more likely just wet, cold, windy and raw, but then-- you never know.  The Washington mountains are above normal snowfall, with nearly 250% of normal in the Olympics and around 150% of normal in the Cascades.  There was so much snow at Mt. Baker ski area they actually had to close down.  Amanda says it's been snowing almost non-stop in the Methow Valley for several days.  John and I are still hoping to see them safely in Seattle, sometime before Santa arrives.

Have you ever made these old-fashioned orange and clove pomander balls?  A nice way to slow down at Christmas. The citrus spice smell is comforting as you sit for a quiet hour or so with quiet thoughts.  Candi and Roger, each one of these cloves was a little thought prayer for you yesterday.

Mistletoe

Druids Cutting the Mistletoe

Henri Paul Motte

Five days after the first new moon following the Winter Solstice, druid priests cut mistletoe with a golden sickle from a special oak tree. The mistletoe had to be caught before it hit ground. People would then hang it over their doors for protection against evil in the coming year.

Belief in the magical powers of mistletoe outlived the druids. When Christianity became widespread in Europe, the mystical respect for the mistletoe plant was somehow integrated into the new religion, and this may have led to the widespread custom of kissing under the mistletoe plant during the Christmas season.

Mistletoe is a parasitic plant that lives on a host, and it was often considered a pest that kills trees. More recently it's been recognized as a "keystone species," or an organism that has an important influence on its environment. It's a popular decoration, even though mistletoe is poisonous to humans. Other animals depend on mistletoe for food, consuming the leaves and young shoots.

 Gathering the Mistletoe

Frederick McCubbin

Wrong, again

The Mayan day planner stopped dead in its tracks today after 5125 years of painstaking accuracy.  Dire predictions to the contrary, we seem to be going on just fine. Like the 2012 we have on the fridge, calendars come to an end and the world still spins. As it will when we're long gone.

But if Thursday had been our last day, it would have been a pretty good one.  John and I went downtown to the Seattle art museum, ate a nice lunch at PF Chang's, messed around Macy's and kitchen stores, elbowed through the Pike Place Market and shared a cup of the best dark hot chocolate on Earth at Fran's.

Here's today's poem from The Writer's Almanac:

Leaning In

Sometimes, in the middle of a crowded store on a Saturday
afternoon, my husband will rest his hand
on my neck, or on the soft flesh belted at my waist,
and pull me to him. I understand

his question: Why are we so fortunate
when all around us, friends are falling prey
to divorce and illness? It seems intemperate
to celebrate in a more conspicuous way

so we just stand there, leaning in
to one another, until that moment
of sheer blessedness dissolves and our skin,
which has been touching, cools and relents,

settling back into our separate skeletons
as we head toward 
Housewares to resume our errands.

by, Ellen Sue Thompson

Tonight

Please pray and send good thoughts to our dear friends Candi and Roger, alone together at the hospital in Salt Lake City.  They are doing some hard bare knuckle boxing tonight.

Return of light

The light-famous Menashe home, Alki Beach

Up here in the Northwest, we're starved for light this time of year. No wonder we love our Christmas decorations. And just how dark is Seattle when you switch off that Menashe display?

Well, there's a gadget measuring solar radiation on a rooftop at the University of Washington.  According to Cliff Mass, it measures daily radiation in megajoules, an scientific amount of energy. The darkest days of the year have been in the past weeks, with megajoule readings of around 0.47.  To put that in perspective, in the summer we occasionally get above 30 megajoules!  No wonder we feel better then, even if a bit sleep deprived.

A weak winter sun and deep cloud deck bring these super dark days. Some of us remember the glorious experience of flying out of Seatac airport in the winter and finally bursting into blue sky after 20 minutes of gloom. It feels a bit like ascending into heaven. But good news now, because sunset finally bottomed out at 4:18, and from today on we start to gain more daylight. The winter solstice is tomorrow.

The Eternal Struggle

Jayne Barnett

Let us go on, cheerfully enough

Every year we have been
witness to it: how the
world descends

into a rich mash, in order that
it may resume.
And therefore
who would cry out

to the petals on the ground
to stay,
knowing as we must,
how the vivacity of what was is married

to the vitality of what will be?
I don't say
it's easy, but
what else will do

if the love one claims to have for the world
be true?

So let us go on, cheerfully enough,
this and every crisping day,

though the sun be swinging east,
and the ponds be cold and black,
and the sweets of the year be doomed.

Mary Oliver
In the Days of Descending Darkness

Igor Oleynikov

It's snowing in Seattle early this morning, although the forecast says it will soon turn to rain. But a pretty sight right now, looking out at the neighbor's Christmas lights through snow instead of rain.  John left his truck at home and took my Honda "Little Beep" to be on the safe side headed down the Admiral hill and over the West Seattle bridge. Fortunately, it's one of these days when I don't need to stray far from home.

Even in the slushy darkness at 5:20, he left the house in a happier mood today because he won't be going back to work until 2013. He's on vacation for the rest of the week, and then Boeing's usual holiday kicks in. Today is also a big pot luck, and more eating than work goes on at Boeing Field.

Bake Cookies Day

December 18th is Bake Cookies Day, so says my calendar of holidays and wacky days. Well, after this week of such sad news we could all use more sweet dreams, sweet hopes, sweet wishes, sweet love, sweet friends, sweet treats, sweet holidays.

As it happens, today really is a big cookie day for me, which is why I'm late to my computer this morning. I'm finishing up my cookie contribution to John's work pot luck tomorrow.  I thought I'd just make coconut pecan dream bars (the favorite) but it didn't seem quite like Christmas without nut and date balls, Russian teacakes, gingerbread stars, coconut butter cookies, and a new one this year, white chocolate and cranberry drop cookies.  And other friends might be looking for their annual cookie tin, so I was on a roll again. In more ways than one-- did I really need to gobble 4 or 5 cookies last night while we were watching White Christmas?

King 5

Snow fell last night around Puget Sound, but Seattle was in the rainshadow (make that snow shadow) of the Olympic mountains. But it is windy and cold this morning. As you know, it doesn't take much snow to get us excited here, and for the first time in many years, rumors are circulating about the possibility of a white Christmas.

Maya and Nova

Thanks for the weekend pictures, Amanda.

And here's our little angels sleeping, after a long day of keeping their Momma busy.  And look how big and chubby Maya is!  We can't wait to see you at Christmas. 

A pause in the rain

 

Thankfully, it was dry enough yesterday afternoon to putter around outside, away from computers, TV and radios for a couple hours. I don't have much in the way of words this morning, just some wabi-sabi views around the homestead.

Cheerful red on an old shed...

Fancy angels say hi on the front porch...

 And welcome new neighbors to the fairy garden...

Treasures

We have a lifetime collection of Christmas ornaments and decorations, so box after box must be hauled down from the attic each December.  As John pushes them through the ceiling hole and I grab from below, I'd swear those tubs multiplied over the summer.  We both love Christmas, even though I grumble about the work and mess and he doesn't.  (Well, the work and mess doesn't affect him much.)  We live pretty modestly and quietly all the year, so maybe Christmas should be a bit excessive in this dark, dreary season in the Northwest.

When the house is finally decorated and I'm sitting in the beautifully cluttered living room, sometimes I wonder what I would keep, if I could only save a few things. Top on the list would be the white and gold Mexican nativity set I bought in Tijuana in the 1970's. I was poor, and it was a big splurge purchase at the time. That set has traveled across the country and been packed and unpacked for almost 40 Christmases, and not one piece is chipped or missing.  It is very precious to me.

This sweet little plaster set is even older, and I remember it from when I was Nova's age on our farm in Pennsylvania. There were once more animals and figures, but isn't it kind of a miracle that the major players are the only ones that survived? It looks like the family set Dan and Becky display at their condo in Mexico.  You can see a picture on their Casa de Terrible blog photo stream.

And there's our Grandma's celluloid German Santa. He's light as a feather and delicate as an eggshell, yet here he is, still hanging out In Seattle, 70 years later.  I call that longevity.

And Amanda's wooden Pinocchio, bought in Venice when she was even younger than Nova.  He gets packed away in the Christmas box every year, and he looks like new.

Speaking of new, I bought this guy a couple years ago at a sale.  Last year when she was two, Nova did not like him, and would not even look in his direction.  We'll see what she thinks this time around. (I think a bit of shock and awe is a good thing at Christmastime.)

Oh, yes.  Remember the fairy garden?  The planter is still sitting outside the back door, but the fairies and all their stuff have gone in for the winter.  The garden has fallen into neglect, John was saying it looked kind of "sad."  But when everyone comes next week, I thought I'd decorate it for the holidays with this inexpensive nativity set I found at Bartell's.  Sixty years from now, maybe Nova and Maya will be remembering Christmas at Nana and Grandpas house, too.

Parrish blue

Winter Sunrise by Maxfield Parrish

That mountain reminds me of Pikes Peak, seen from the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs.

Yesterday afternoon at about 4, a crack in the clouds opened on the western horizon just as the sun was going down.  For a minute, our soggy neighborhood was glowing with that unearthly blue and gold light that Parrish paintings are famous for.

He's better known for his mythical story paintings, adored by hippies in the 1960's, but Parrish loved doing landscapes later in life. His complicated method involved applying numerous layers of transparent oil alternating with varnish on stretched paper, which gives that extraordinary detail, depth and luminosity. It's like looking through a window into a fairy tale world.

Christmas Morning by Maxfield Parrish

Parrish was a prolific artist, despite his perfectionism and the long time it took to complete a painting. His early magazine covers are so whimsical.  Here's a few holiday examples from December Life.